


Snow Angel

by Jay_eagle



Series: Fandot Creativity Night Fics [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Christmas, Flash Fic, Gen, MJN Air Is A Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 14:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8920861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_eagle/pseuds/Jay_eagle
Summary: For the twenty-sixth fandot creativity night - a flash-fic for the prompt "snow angel".





	

“You’re not even moving, Skip!” Arthur flapped his arms energetically in the crisp, crunchy snow.

 

“I know, Arthur.” Martin didn’t sound confused, though.

 

It had taken nearly the whole morning for the rest of MJN Air to persuade Martin to even give this a go. Douglas was still battling surprise that they’d succeeded. “Sir does _know_ how one is supposed to create a snow angel?” he queried, putting just the right amount of light derision into the question.

 

“Of course I do.” Martin sounded nettled, now.

 

Douglas had finished wiggling his own arms and legs and craned his neck sideways to where Martin lay. “It’s not ballet, Martin.”

 

Martin was still lying perfectly stationary in the Fitton frost, but his feet were pointed out from each other, in what Douglas knew from Emily’s ballet classes was a decent-ish approximation of second position. He seemed to be frowning with concentration.

 

“Ready?” Arthur sounded as excited as ever.

 

“I am,” Douglas said, amazed when Martin assented simultaneously.

 

“You haven’t _started_ , Martin.” Carolyn was on hand to criticise, as ever.

 

“I have. And I’ve finished.” Martin’s voice was the captain at his most stubborn.

 

“ONE… TWO… THREE… UP!” At Arthur’s command, the three of them rocked gently upwards, avoiding smudging their artwork, before turning to see the results.

 

Arthur’s was a nearly totally circular blur, but with a definite hint of angel. Douglas had created the type of perfect snow-angel a Hollywood set-designer would have been proud to call their own. But Martin…

 

“Oh!” Arthur’s face suddenly cleared, to Douglas’ bemusement. “Oh, Skip! What a brilliant idea!”

 

Martin beamed, unexpectedly. “Yes. It turned out rather well, I think.”

 

Douglas stared hard at the impression in the snow. “What…?”

 

“It’s….” Martin held out his arms for a moment, then seemed to remember his dignity and drew them back in. He tugged self-importantly at his jacket, but couldn’t quite hide his glee. “A snow-plane!”

 

“Goodness.” Carolyn muttered, but her face twitched, the ghost of a smile. “How original.”

 

Douglas could see it now, and he laughed until he thought he might fall over. Arthur was racing about, nose to the ground like a bloodhound. He suddenly dropped and lay perfectly still. “I’m making one too – here’s a blank bit!” He stretched his feet. “It’s fun – you try, Douglas!”

 

Carolyn stalked off, which Douglas had been expecting. He turned to follow her, longing for a hot cup of tea in the portacabin – but was then abruptly brought to a halt when even she lay down in the snow.

 

Douglas thought perhaps he would, after all, have a try.


End file.
